


TRANSTEMPORAL SERIES - I Remember

by BLUEFICTION2



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Inspired by Call Me By Your Name, Italy, M/M, Mentions of Crema Italy, POV Armie Hammer, POV Elio Perlman, POV Oliver (Call Me By Your Name), POV Timothée Chalamet, Transtemporal Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25274212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BLUEFICTION2/pseuds/BLUEFICTION2
Summary: I Remember takes place about 5 yrs after CMBYN in a blend of Elio / Oliver universe and Timmy /Armie with references to other actors in todays world._____Armie and Timmy head back to Italy to film the CMBYN sequel and revisit their time at the villa where Oliver and Elio are spending their vacation.
Relationships: Armie Hammer & Elio Perlman, Oliver/Elio Perlman, Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19





	1. I Remember Part 1: HALL PASS

__________

❤ I Remember Series - Part 1: Hall Pass  
__________  
_____

💛 Oliver:  
_____

Elio says the most stupid assed thing that's ever come out of his mouth.

"If you had a chance to fuck anyone else -- a celebrity say -- who would it be?"  
___

So I counter back with something of my own.

"Man or woman?"

"As if."

"You have to be specific."

"MAN." He stresses. 

"You first." I'm not fucking falling for this.

"I asked you, but okay I'll go first." 

Elio sighs as if it's a burden -- but turns out -- he's fucking enjoying this.

"Oscar Isaac, Jake Gyllenhaal, Ryan Gosling, Ryan Reynolds, Matt Bomer --" 

He pauses to look at me and wiggles his eyebrows. 

"ALL of the Hemsworth brothers"

"At the same time?"

"Sure, why not?"

"It's your ass."

"Who says I'm bottoming!" 

And there goes those fucking eyebrows again.

"Okay, now you."

"Are you done with your list?" Fuck it's longer than I thought.

He shrugs -- but I know him -- he lives for those celebrity magazines.

But I hedge. 

"I don't know Elio -- you'll kill me no matter who I say."

"Come on -- it's not as if it's likely to happen."

He's not giving up.

"The kid from that Italian movie you like." I'll go with him -- he's safe. 

"Really."

"Sure." I say, knowing he's not going to let up.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

"Are you ready for another go at pretending you're a genius pianist?"

"It's not a stretch, I knew how to play before Italy."

"Chopsticks." I tease. 

But he's not going there. 

"I'm tied up with this shoot longer than anticipated." 

"How much longer?" 

I don't like the sound of this.

"Not long. A day -- maybe three." He says. "You'll have Dakota for company."

"Not at first. She's got commitments too."

"So you can hang around with Luca."  
___  
___

🖤 Elio:  
_____

Oliver is pissed. He'd deny it to his dying day but my list was longer and more thought out than he bargained for. 

"You'd pick someone who looks just like me?" I say.

"Sure." 

Oliver would rather coddle me than fight over shit that really doesn't matter. 

"So Oscar Isaac, the two Ryans, Cafferty and all the Hemsworths."

He was listening. 

"Well both Ryans -- but mostly Gosling because I saw him in a picture with that Timothée guy."

"Where was that?" He asks.

"Some airport in Toronto."

Oliver looks like he's about to ignore it but what comes next is totally unexpected. 

"Yeah, I saw that too. The little fucker was lucky that Armie guy wasn't there."

"Timothee?"

"No -- that Gosling fucker."

"He's not gay."

"Doesn't matter. That Chalamet kid would turn anyone."

"You're fucking nuts." I tell him.

But I'm curious.

"So what's this about Armie and Ryan Gosling?"

"That baby goose guy would have been pâté if your tall, blond and handsome crush had been there -- he was way too chummy with Timothée." 

"You keep saying his name! You sooo love him."  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

"I'd rather hang with you. We could bicycle around, look at all the old stomping grounds --"

"Fuck on the berm?"

"You remembered."

"Like you -- I remember everything." He laughs.

"Ol-iv-er." I breathe, saying my character's name. 

"Elio, Elio, Elio, Elio." Timmy laughs through his words.

It's nice to hear him be so happy about returning to Italy, even if it's only over the fucking phone.

"You could check out the old villa." He says.

"Someone lives there now."

"So? You could go by and see who's there."

It's tempting -- but I'd rather wander down memory lane with Timmy.  
___  
___

💛 Oliver:  
\-----

I can't wait to see Elio's reaction when I tell him Luca Whats-his-name asked about the villa. I had to tell him to talk to the in-laws about this because even if they're rarely here, it's still Annella's house. 

But he's sleeping when I head into Crema.  
___  
___

🖤 Elio:  
_____

I look out my old bedroom window to see a green taxi pull up in the yard.

The door opens and this blond guy gets out. He's tall like Oliver and I almost mistake him for someone I remember from long ago.

Heading downstairs I'm just in time for a brisk knock on the door frame.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

This kid comes to the door. And he's too beautiful for words, standing there with a quizzical look on his face. 

"Can I help you?" He asks in English. How did he know? He was clearly not expecting to have someone show up like this.

I'm immediately taken back to five years ago when I walked into a piano lesson and saw Timmy for the first time.

"Do you live here?" 

I feel ridiculous for asking -- I mean he did answer the door after all. 

"It's my parent's -- we're just staying here for awhile."

"So it's your parent's house." I repeat; wondering why I can't form any coherent sentences. 

"My mother's. She inherited it."

He wearing this retro Izod shirt that makes him look younger than he probably is -- but I'm too focused on his eyes to really notice.  
___  
___

🖤 Elio:  
_____

I know who he is. I mean it wasn't like I was expecting him but I'd heard there was a crew in the area so I figured production was about to start.

I say something to him in Italian that he clearly doesn't get.

And I can't decide if I'm in awe -- or if I'm purposely fucking with him.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

The kid says something in rapid Italian that sounds familiar but I have to ask.

"What's that mean? What you just said right now."

He looks patiently at me. 

"Call me by your name and I'll call you by mine. It's what you said in the movie."

"I know. It just sounds so fucking sexy when you say it."

___  
___

🖤 Elio:  
_____

His voice is 100 times better than I imagined; so deep and mesmerizing; and it's like I could keep listening to him and never get tired of the way he sounds.

He's tall. I knew that from the film. But to have him here in real life is almost more than I can take.

And it's almost like I've known him forever.

___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

The kid smirks at me and it's so reminiscent of someone else. 

"So what was it like having Timothee Chalamet grabbing your junk?" 

I must look alarmed. 

"Asking for a friend." He qualifies. 

"A friend?"

"My husband."

"You're married." I say.

He had said it so confidently -- and I must admit -- I'm a bit disappointed. 

"Yeah, we said our vows here in front of friends and family."

"Your husband? Is he here?" I'm curious. 

"Not right now. But he's going to regret not meeting you."

"Why's that?" Fuck I'm flirting with him.

"I know who you are -- and why you're here."

He has no fucking idea. I had no idea until I actually met him.

"Can I see the house? I know I'm imposing but --" 

"Sure." He says leading the way inside and up the stairs.

How did he know where to go first? 

It's as if he can read my mind -- like someone else I know.  
___

The room is the same.

The rest of the house is different -- the sets removed -- the image packed up -- gone forever.  
___  
___

🖤 Elio:  
_____

He stands there taking up most of the doorway.

Not moving at all.

Just there.

"Peaches." He says. "Are there still peaches?"

I stand in the hall behind him letting him look inside. 

"Yes. But they're not in season."

"Of course." He says. 

He's quiet for a long time -- I thought he'd wander inside -- touch things --

But he just stands in the doorway.

It's kind of sad.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I can't believe I'm going to ask this but --

"Can I come back?" I look over my shoulder. 

"Why?" He asks and I'm surprised by the melancholy in his voice.

"I want -- I need to bring someone."

_____

■ FIN - I Remember Part 1 - HALL PASS  
_____


	2. I Remember 2: Into the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Re-visiting the villa is not an easy ride as Armie and Tim are quick to find out.

I Remember - Part 2: Into the Past

This series takes place 5 yrs after CMBYN in a blend of Elio / Oliver universe and Timmy /Armie ■ Needless to say, this is a fictionalized depiction of the actors mentioned within the following storyline.

_____  
_____

❤ I Remember - Part 2: Into the Past  
___  
_____

💚 Timmy:  
_____

I can't believe I'm finally here.

As Armie would say, the flight was hellish and there's no fucking good reason for them not to make a decent cocktail in first class -- not that I'd intended to drink the whole flight, or even drink cocktails, but I still get a kick out of getting carded and showing them my i.d. Then of course they'll know who I am and some will get it and some won't - but I'll be curled up in Armie's hoodie and hopefully too crashed to care.  
___  
___

💛 Oliver:  
_____

Elio's being mysterious and that's never a good sign. He's got our bags packed and by the door, and I wasn't even aware we were going anywhere.  
___  
___

🖤 Elio:  
_____

I've somehow got to get Oliver out of the house for a couple of days. Something I know he's never going to go for but that hasn't stopped me before so why should it now.

He does owe me a trip for our up-coming anniversary, actually we're months away from that but it's easier to travel from here than to go back home and leave near the end of December screwing up both our schedules, but that's the way it is.

So it's these two days in Bergamo for now, or that's what I'm telling him.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

Timmy's here!  
___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

I take in the familiar stone portico while Armie parks the rental car near the house.

I knew right away where we were going after we hit the main road to the villa and it explains more clearly what he's been up to these past few days.

"Who lives here now?" I ask as he comes up behind me.

And I wonder how he's managed all this as he accompanies me back into that extraordinary space that's become a sentimental part of our past.

"I didn't get his name but it's some kid whose family owns the villa." He says, resting his hands on my shoulders.

"Some kid?"

"Yeah, about your age."

"If he's about my age, he's not a kid."

Armie turns me around to look at him. "No he's not," he says with a far too serious look on his face.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I lead the way through the massive hallway down to where we shot our first meeting in the Professor's office. It's different now, but not so much so that it doesn't have that nostalgic feel I was expecting.

The desk is new, but laid out in the same place so that when I turn towards Timmy, we're in the same positions as when we had that first fateful handshake.

And I'm reminded of just how beautiful he was then. And even more so now.

How magical it was to start a new project knowing this was to be the person sharing this profound experience with me.

And someone who has ( to this day ), remained just as beautiful inside and out as the first time I shook his hand, in the office on film, and in the piano studio in real life.  
___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

I know what he's doing, and right now all I can think of is the shoot five years ago -- almost to the week.

How we'd met only a few days earlier, but after that impromptu rehearsal on the lawn ( if you could call it that ), and all the awkwardness that should have been there but had vanished as soon as we lay down on the grass, had became the beginning of a *beautiful friendship* as Michael so eloquently stated during that iconic speach.

How Armie had burst into my piano lesson a few days prior and we'd cycled around, had dinner and shit, but nothing physical had happened.

And then Luca lead us into the backyard.

And all the sparks were no longer denied ( or bottled up if I'm being truthful ), and the very first moment our lips met; our bodies touching as we came together in that first tentative embrace; had ignited a passion that couldn't be contained, and that to this very day burns brighter with every look every touch and every breath.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I know exactly what Tim is feeling as he quietly takes in all the indelible memories of what had been our first meeting in the Professor's office. Not just because he's so easy to read but because I'm getting those same feelings too.

"You arranged this?" He asks.

Where it's almost like no time has passed, twenty years ago today like it says in the book, only it's more like five. Five fucking years ago today.  
___  
___

💚Timmy:  
_____

"I don't know why I ended up here." Armie is clearly upset.

I look at him expectedly, letting him gather his thoughts, because he seems to be taking this a little too seriously.

"To tell you the truth, I came back just to look around; I wasn't planning to show up again, or even drag you here."

I extend my arm to him, just like when we were shooting, and Armie puts his hand in mine, just for a second, then shrugs with a sad smile on his face.

He steps away, turning to look in the mirror, running his hand over his short hair.

"I'm making too much of it all." He says. "This was supposed to be easy and suddenly it's become way too complicated."

I want to go to him.

I want to hold him.

"Maybe I wanted to come back too." I say.

"Really?" He asks, relieved that I'm talking now.

"Really." I try to sound confident but I'm just as rattled as he is.

And then it strikes me.

"Ghost spots." I say.

"What are you talking about? No one died." Armie scoffs.

"Yes they did. They killed us."

Holy shit that's profound.

We're both silent for a moment, neither of us wanting to go there.  
_

"Let's get out of here." Armie brushes past me.

"Leave?"

"No. Let's go outside." He's almost out the door.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

Thank fucking God we're out of the house.

I was fine on my own. Being in there with him -- Tim -- and reliving that summer, those fucking six weeks that were undeniably the best six weeks of my life, professionally or otherwise.

But I can't do this and maybe returning was a bad idea, there's just too many what ifs.  
___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

Armie marches down the lawn ahead of me; striding way too fast so that I have to run to catch up.

But when I ask him to slow down, he either ignores or doesn't hear me -- although to be fair to him, I'm choosing to go with option B.

So I do exactly what I did on the berm, correction, I do what my character did on the berm; tackling him from behind, my arms wrapped around his neck, holding on for dear life.

But he just keeps walking, although his pace slows down considerably, as he scoops his arms low to support my legs, and he's soon carrying me across the property.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

Timmy climbs onto my back and what had been a piss-poor attempt to slow me down soon becomes a piggy back ride.

And as I carry him behind me, I can't help but think about how in these few years I've gotten heavier, and some would say bulkier, while Timmy's tipped the scales in the other direction.

I know that he lost the weight for his craft but I sometimes worried about him and this is one of those instances that I did.

"You can put me down if you like."

Timmy is light as a feather and there's no way I'm taxed in this endeavour, where I tell him so. I feel that I could carry him this way forever because there's no way I ever want to put him down.

And my spirits lift in such a way that I can only describe as joyful.

I feel fucking joyful.

And what started out as a moody escape becomes something to appreciate.

"Hang on." I tell him.

As I break out into a loping run, and with no one to see, Timmy wraps his legs around my waist when I let go.

Spreading my arms outward, to spin us around in a Sound of Music kind of way --.

Only different.  
___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

I love him so much right now.

Even spinning us around, as if he's Julie fucking Andrews, he has me wrapped around him, wanting to spread my arms too.

And we're dangerously close to falling over as Armie slows down, bending to his knees, then completely collapsing on the ground.

Rolling us over until I'm pinned beneath him.

I want him so much at this moment, and as Armie holds my face in both his hands, he bends forward to give me a big smack on the mouth.

"Better now?"

I smile up at him, telling him that I'm not just happy but incredibly horny.

"I could feel your back bumping against my cock. It made me hard." I admit, lifting up, my cock rigid within my jeans.

"I could feel your cock bumping against my back." He says, pausing, "But I was hard from the moment you climbed up on me."

"You win?" I laugh.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I dip my head again as he lies there, slightly rumpled, his mouth opening in a sigh before I even touch his lips. And it's not nearly as tentative as our first kiss on this lawn; not as naive either.

And I settle one hand on his stomach, holding him steady as I ravish him; sliding my tongue around perfect teeth; breathing heavily into his mouth. Moving down to his stomach, I push his shirt higher to kiss then pillage his navel, his hips rising of their own accord and nothing, fucking nothing, is going to stop what comes next.

He groans loudly as I first unbutton, then pulling downward I expose his boxers that tent with his burgeoning erection. And putting my mouth on him, right over the fabric, I lick the cotton, making what is already impressive, undeniable.  
_

The translucency of the fibers, accentuated by the rigid flesh beneath, is something to behold; an erotic photograph that I will bring to mind on those long and lonely days when we're working elsewhere. When my hand on my cock, becomes a very poor substitute for his hand, his mouth, his ass; but I digress.  
_

Peeling back the dampened fabric, my hand tunnels through the flap to cover him, knowing that he is one hundred percent on the same page.

Not at all the way it was the first time; Luca standing over us, making an initial exploration awkward, then leaving as we made out ( as he put it ), mouths touching, hands steadfastly above the waist; still passionate but with the reserve that comes with the reality that this was a job.

But no job now; it's pure pleasure to lick, then take his bared flesh into my mouth; the heat, the texture and now the throbbing carnality of him -- Tim -- pressing against the back of my throat, as I swallow around, making him groan even louder.

___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

His throat constricts around the head of my cock and I have to resist the urge to press deeper; and not take over this suck, turning it into a more agressive fuck that would have me pushing him downward, shoving myself upward; rolling him over to ravage that tightened opening and ultimately shoot so far deep that no taste is detected.

But I digress.

___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I grip him, and as he gets closer, my mouth works hard to get him --

\-- there --

Taking everything he has to offer as I feel his heat shoot down my throat; his cock so deep that I have to pull back at the very last second so there's no missing the taste of him.

\-- -- --

Tim.

_____

❤ FIN - Part 2 Into the Past  
_____


	3. I Remember 3: Memories of Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: Armie and Tim re-visit the berm.

I Remember 3: Memories of Now

This takes place 5 years after CMBYN in a blend of Elio / Oliver universe and Timmy /Armie ■ Needless to say, this is a fictionalized depiction of the actors mentioned within the following storyline.

___

❤ I Remember 3: Memories of Now  
___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

We walk up the lawn to the top of the yard, Armie obsessively intent on driving out to the berm before morning becomes afternoon -- because, as he puts it, timing is everything.

And if he wants to stick to a schedule, no matter how twisted it may seem at the time, it's his call.  
_

The rental car can only get so close, so before we hike the last bit, Armie changes into his very short shorts. Those same shorts.

And before I can say anything, Armie intones, "Details, young man, details," picking up a large paper bag with the name of his favorite restaurant Via Vai emblazoned on the side.  
_

On setting down our meal, Armie stretches out on the grassy berm, while I take a peek inside the bag.

"There's enough food in here to feed -- "

"An Armie?" He laughs.

"Yeah."

"How about an Armie and a Timothee-ee-ee?"

"Making fun of my name isn't going to get you anywhere. Let alone fucked."

"We're only here five minutes and your mind is in the gutter."

"No gutter. But if you want to eat first."

"Come closer."

Armie moves the bag to the opposite side as I crawl over to sit beside him.

"Lie down."

"Bossing me around isn't going to work either." I remind him.

Armie gives me a look that says 'just do it' but I'm choosing to interpret it as 'please'; so I lie back anyway because I have more than just an inkling of where he's going with this.  
__

We lie there looking up at the clouds floating by, and those iconic words come to mind -- effortlessly, without either of us even having to say them.

-I love this Oliver

What

Everything

Us you mean

It's not bad, it's not bad.-

Armie, leans up on one elbow, gazing down at me, as he slowly runs his finger back and forth over my lips.

"They're still so soft." He muses. "That's what I thought that day, how soft your lips were, and how I was looking forward to kissing them."

I sigh as he presses down on the bottom one.

"I wanted to bite you right there, worry it with my teeth." He taps, and I'm immediately taken back to that day.

"Then I wanted to lick the hurt, the marks from my teeth, and when you finally, fucking finally -- no, when Luca finally let you lean up and bring your mouth to mine --"

"Armie." I whisper frantically, as the emotions of the day take over.

But he continues.

"And Luca practically salivating at how good we were together, the crew watching, and salivating too."

"Hard cocks on all of them."

"Probably." He agrees.

"You were hard too." I say in a low voice, as if there are people still watching us.

"Tim." He whispers my name when I rise up to meet him. Only now it's closer to a groan.

I lean in to lick his bottom lip, waiting for him to open his eyes, but he doesn't and this time it bothers me.

Going off script, I kiss his cheek, moving up to his left eye, brushing it gently as I then pull back.

"Look at me."

"I can't." There's hurt in his voice.

I lick his lip again.

And his breath catches, as I press my mouth to his and he opens to let my tongue inside.  
__

We'd practiced this, how it was going to go.

How we were to breathe into each other's mouths, those silent little messages that telegraphed the desire that was so present; that wouldn't be perceived as disingenuous in anyway but would have to be restrained and ultimately curtailed.

That little lick that was so innocent, but not. That drove the audience wild, that almost undid us right there.  
__

"Fuck this." He mumbles grabbing my neck.

Armie takes control and I have to admit, this thing he's doing brings back memories of that hot summer day in Italy, with the hot American student, but in such a hot way.

Did I say hot?

"Better now?" I ask, stealing his dialogue before rising over him; taking over the kiss that should have been longer. And deeper.

And making it so, I push my tongue into his mouth, licking his teeth, running over the ridges on the top of his palate.

Before pressing him down, flattening him on the grass.

Grinding onto him. Into him.

And then --

"No, no, no, no." Armie struggles to remain true to the scene.  
__

It was something that was also happening on the day, when we both wanted --

And with that wanting, made what came next, something that neither of us wanted to end.

When all we needed was to ignore the situation, the camera, the dozen or so people standing only a few feet away, to roll around freely on the grass. But not that day.

And even more, I then wanted to climb up onto him. Our hard cocks bumping as we pulled off our clothes.

The urgency of it all too immediate to bear, and I again, taking on the initiative to --

"Fuck me." I had wanted to say back then.  
___  
___

"We should go," he says, but in no way meaning the words.

"Why?" I ask.

-I know myself. We've been good. We haven't done anything to be ashamed of. And that's a good thing-

He should be saying those words, that in reality, hit so close to home -- but he just sits there -- waiting -- waiting -- until --

I put my hand over him, trying my best to keep it slow.

When I really want to do more.

"You were so hot in my hand that day, and hard, and so fucking big."

Armie laughs, "And your fingers were persistant in making sure you got a good grip."

"You were more than a handful." I laugh too.

"You remember."

"I remember." I nod.

But Armie can't contain his mirth, "And in that interview when you called me huge, I almost choked trying not to laugh, and then you tried to cover up what you said, making it worse.  
And I thought you were going to piss yourself right there. I almost pissed myself right there."

And I know exactly what he's referring to.

"Slip of the tongue." I smile at him slyly, in a way that anyone who knows me can tell I'm definitely up to something.

And I push Armie back on the grass, pulling at the band of his short shorts, and moving with an almost manic imperative, I take him into my mouth.

"Be gentle with me." Armie gasps, as he spreads his arms out wide -- still laughing.

Until he's not.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

And all the rememberings of that day disappear into NOW.

Covering my cock, playing with me --

Teasing me. Before --

His mouth.

Oh fucking God -- his mouth.

Those expressive soft lips.

Pressing down on me.

Taking me.

Swallowing me down.

Warm hand caressing.

Taking me.

Taking me.

One finger rubbing. Rubbing.

Pressing inside.

Pressing -- right -- THERE.

And as I rise up into his mouth -- my balls -- my whole fucking body.

Tighten up.

Clenching that digit. Tight so tight.

Before I explode.

Fucking fourth of fucking July baby!!!!  
__

And I pull him up.

Wanting to taste those lips so badly.

Those soft lips -- tasting of him and of me.  
___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

I crawl up onto him.

His long body -- his long everything pressing up against me.

Arms drawing around -- pulling me closer.

We lie there -- remembering five years ago --

Making memories of now.

_____

❤ FIN - I Remember 3: Memories of Now  
_____


	4. I Remember 4 - Midnight in the Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4: The Midnight Scene recreated

I Remember 4 - Midnight in the Afternoon 

This series takes place 5 yrs after CMBYN in a blend of Elio / Oliver universe and Timmy /Armie ■ Needless to say, this is a fictionalized depiction of the actors mentioned within the following storyline.

___  
___

❤ I Remember 4 - Midnight in the Afternoon   
___  
___ 

💚 Timmy:  
_____

"Why are we driving back to the villa?" I ask. 

"The kid, the one I told you about, is letting us stay there tonight." 

"You kicked him out of his own house?"

Armie takes his eyes off the road long enough to give me that look; the one that's universally known as 'don't be an idiot'. 

"He offered."

And because we're heading back to the villa (the place that was ours for six weeks, five years ago), I can tell he still considers it to be part of our past. Our great unfinished business past.

So in essence, it belongs to us too.

Because, and I'm not totally dense about this, Armie is intent on finishing what was never consummated on film; and to tell you the truth, I'm glad we're here.   
__  
__

I take in the massive hallway to find it really isn't as an emotional experience as first thing this morning. And peering into the kitchen I concede that with the absence of a hundred or so people milling about, it appears quite inconsequential and safe, although none of our major scenes happened here.

But I do check the refrigerator anyway to see if the frozen chicken is still there.

It's not.

But there are juice and eggs around, so breakfast is covered. 

And Armie has replenished our feast from Via Vai.

It's a busy place, but the owner, Stephano, remembers Armie well (spending half a day there in one sitting will do that), and our order is ready for us when we swing back around. 

But spending the night here was definitely something I didn't sign up for. And as I walk across the hall, I swear the sound of the shutters banging in the wind makes five years ago seem like yesterday.

And yesterday (back in the real world), seem like a totally different place and time, where we were on separate continents doing jobs that had us being completely different people.

But what Armie doesn't know, is that although I've read the book, acted it, lived it (and I'll never ever tell him this), I played his narration in my earbuds every fucking night (even when I was away shooting in the middle of the desert).

We'd talk on the phone, facetime or just text each other and after we were done, even if we had phone sex (and that happened a lot), I'd lie down real quiet (hand still on my cock) and listen to him read to me until I fell asleep.   
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

"Please, please, please come back." I can still hear Amira's dialogue, and being here, back at the villa, is testament to the fact that this time and place and fucking circumstance continues to have an undeniable draw. 

And this side trip of ours down memory lane, although it took off to a rough start, is definitely looking up; but when I cross the main floor to find Timmy quietly gazing into the empty blackened fireplace, looking up takes on a darker tone.

"You okay?" I ask, although it's clear he's not. 

"Three takes. Three fucking takes." He says shaking his head.

I wait for more because I know there's more coming.

"Let's go outside." He says.

Getting up and taking my hand, he pulls me out into the hallway in an almost identically visceral reaction to what I had earlier. 

"Ghost spots." I repeat. "Your fucking ghost spots are everywhere."

Timmy's mouth twists into something between a smile and a grimace. 

"Should we just rip off the band-aid?" I ask, because it feels like an open wound right now; this closure shit I'm attempting is not going to work if we can't even fucking wander around without one of us going off the deep end.

So I pull him towards the stairs, grabbing our bags, knowing this is definitely our biggest hurdle to cross.

"How was it yesterday?" Timmy digs in his heels, keeping our conversation to the bottom step.

"I didn't have time to look around. The kid just automatically led the way upstairs. It was freaky the way he knew where to take me."

"What was he like?" He asks.

"You. He was just like you."  
__

"Here." I put out my free hand as we ascended the stairs. 

"This is weird." Timmy says as we approach the top. "It's the same, but not."

"Yeah."

I pull back the heavy door to the bedroom, finding the second one is already open. And it becomes a bit of a shock all at once. 

"I thought --" Timmy starts, but has to take a breath.

"I know." I guess the band-aid really is ripped off because something I never expected is right there when we look into the room.

"The beds are together." Timmy says softly.

"They weren't yesterday."

Holy shit.

That kid, Elio, knew. He fucking knew.

"Should we just do this?" Tim asks.

"Get it over with? Just like that? No." 

I don't throw our bags on the bed but set them down near the door. It just seems sacrilegious, seeing as I'm considering it hallowed ground. 

Timmy wanders into the second bedroom, flopping down on top of the mattress, while I stay behind to change into a pair of red trunks. So I'd say his perception of what's sacred differs from mine.

"Let's go swimming." I say, entering the room to lean on the bottom rail of the bed.

"In the trough? It's fucking freezing." He scoffs.

I want to call him a pussy but figure it's best not to throw stones in glass houses or some shit like that, given as to how I reacted that day at the berm.

Why aren't you down at the river? I want to say, and wait to have him give the excuse of having allergies. 

But I've got a better plan. 

"Come swimming with me and I'll give you a foot rub."

"Perv." The grin on this face belies the perceived insult. 

"Your perv." I throw back at him, but he's up already and rummaging through his bag to change.   
__

"Get in." 

Timmy sits on the edge of the trough, his bare feet dangling in the water, as I start doing laps. 

I don't hear a splash so I roll over into a dead man's float, and when that gets no response, I stand up to see him still sitting there staring at Annella's trees. 

"They glued peaches to the foliage you know."

"I remember." I also remember that day. 

It's carved into my memory as the day I first wanted to rescind my nudity clause (and his), and give the theatre going audience something to talk about. 

"I wonder --" he starts, and I know where he's going with this.

"There's some in the restaurant bag."

"Ahhh." Now he's smiling again; I love it when he lights up like that.

I swim over to his side, grabbing a towel to drape over my shoulders.

"Come here." He says.

And the smile just transforms his face as he opens his legs to welcome me inside. 

He puts his mouth to me, licking the droplets off my chest, working his way up towards my neck and finally my mouth.

"Let's go inside." He whispers as he wraps his arms around my neck. His legs mimic the same motion around my waist, hugging me, chest to chest, cock to cock. 

And hallelujah we're finally on the same page as we disentangle and race back towards the house, ending up in the vestibule off the bar.

"There's no bed here." 

"All in good time, grasshopper." I say sagely in my best Kung Fu voice.

"Channelling David Carradine?" He jokes.

"He's some kinky motherfucker." 

But yeah, if he wants to go there, I'm more than willing.   
___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

I sit there on the floor as Armie manipulates my foot, my other leg tucked under his, while his uses his own personal voodoo reflexology on me. 

He's really talented that way. 

Although cracking my foot the way he did, while I was trying my best to stay in character (and not call him a son of a bitch), is not on my mind at this particular time. 

But there's no dialogue to say, no crew members wondering if the sound can be looped later, and I'm free to express my pleasure when he puts my foot to his lips for a not so brief kiss.

I wonder what would have happened if he did as we rehearsed the night before, and licked the top of my foot, kissing the tips of each toe. 

If he had run his hand up the back of my leg up to play with the edge of my shorts. 

If his hand had tunneled inside to touch me, to fondle me. 

If I had let him, and asked for more.

And then would you, dear Oliver, have left me there to recuperate under the care of Marzia and pouty Chiara, while you cycled away as fast as you could from the scene of the crime?

Probably not.

He would not then, as he is doing now, have stood up, hauling me over his shoulder (no epistaxis-bermum now), to climb the stairs; each step becoming a slow torture of anticipation.   
__

"Whoo-eee." Armie tosses me onto the bed. 

And as I land with a bounce, he rips off those red shorts of his, revealing his -- 

Hard body.

Harder cock.

Sculptured abs.

Flat stomach.

And holy fuck! He's huge!  
__

"Aren't we --" I gulp, "-- going to do this right?"

"Yeah." 

I move closer as he sits down on the side of the bed. "You're not in costume." 

"Fuck that." He laughs, his foot moving to cover mine. 

Our toes entwine.

Our breathing becomes laboured.

"You're not going to have a nose bleed, are you?"

"Fuck no." I all but yell, smiling the whole time.

Climbing up over his lap, his mouth moving to my stomach, I feel all of him -- his hot breath -- his hot, rock hard cock -- 

I move lower as his now impressive erection bumps against me, aligning our bodies to take his mouth; both hands gripping his head, no soft Oliver hair to run my fingers through, although that's probably not high on my list of priorities right now.

I push him backward against the bed.

Not following the script. Fuck that.

No ripping off of his belt to excite the audience. Ditto.

No virginal expectation on my part. Yeah, right.

And no camera panning into the fucking trees. And thank God for that.

I lie on top of him as we move into the middle of the bed. Still wearing my trunks, I then French the fuck out of his tonsils; holding his arms above his head -- my mouth glued to his as I rock against him, then letting go of his hands to slide further down his long body.

"Elio wouldn't have done what you are doing." He grumbles.

"Not that first night." I concede, biting his chest.

It pisses me off that Ivory didn't include the topping scene in the original script, although it leaves room for more exploration in the sequel.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I've been pretty complacent so far in this little reenactment, but that's about to change.

"Ooof." Surprised him, didn't I.

Timmy wasn't expecting to be rolled over so quickly, and while I kiss my way down his body, I grab his trunks, trying not to rip them completely, because, right how all I want is to see -- 

Feel 

Touch

Bite 

And fucking rim his bare ass.

I roll him back and up and as I hold his one leg high over my shoulder, I expose what can only be described as a peachy ass with an even more luscious hole.

Had we filmed this, the studio execs would have shit their pants, the movie would have gone straight to video and our careers would have taken a drastic turn.

His cock stands ready and at attention, but ignored, as my mouth migrates to his hole. 

Tongue swirling -- he opens for me as I push deeply inside.

Teemy 

Thrashing on the sheets.

His hands

Tearing at the linens. 

Teemy

Crying out

As I tongue fuck his asshole.

Teemy

One hand moving to fist his own cock

As my two hands lift him higher.

Separating him wider.

Pushing my tongue deeper.  
_

And he comes then -- 

Violently. With his bare feet drumming against my shoulders.  
_

And kneeling to position, I grab the lube (not so conveniently placed that day -- no) to finally -- fucking finally -- breach that glorious hole.

I lean forward, my mouth to his, rocking -- then slamming up and in, I bellow as I shoot hot seed into that magical place

Wishing -- fucking wishing -- no can't go there. Oliver wouldn't have done that, not on their first night. Maybe later.

And I press my lips to him. 

Tim.  
__

So take that (to all who wanted to pan into the foliage). 

And put it in your pipe and smoke it too!

Speaking of -- I could probably use a joint right about how.

_____

❤ FIN - I Remember Part 4  
_____


	5.  I Remember - Part 5. Peaches for Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5: The Infamous Peach Scene

I Remember - Part 5. Peaches for Dinner 

This series takes place 5 yrs after CMBYN in a blend of Elio / Oliver universe and Timmy /Armie ■ Needless to say, this is a fictionalized depiction of the actors mentioned within the following storyline.

  
_____  
___

❤ I Remember - Part 5. Peaches for Dinner   
___  
_____

💙 Armie:  
_____ 

Timmy stirs in my arms.

"You're not going to haul me down to the river now, are you?" I tease, when he seems finally conscious enough to comprehend words. 

"What? Why would I? No." Timmy mumbles as I play with his hair.

Being articulate after a mind blowing fuck is not his strong suit, but then it did take me almost half an hour to think of something witty to say. 

Or to say anything at all. 

In fact, just laying here; holding him, running my fingers through his curls as he sleeps is all I want to do - to keep doing until we have to leave.

But we have little time left.   
___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

Armie says something about hauling him down to the river but I'm half asleep and really don't appreciate his humor.

Rubbing my face, I turn inwards, trying to burrow into him but my arm hits something.

"What?"

"Sorry." He says, moving the ashtray further away as he bends to kiss the top of my head that's made a home on his chest. Then oblivion hits once more.  
___ 

I wake up hungry, physical exertion will do that; although to be honest, I wasn't controlling much of the action, or really any of the action by the end.

And that's just fine.

Armie has enough energy for both of us and I have no concerns about what will happen tonight; he loves a dick up the ass as much as the next guy.  
_

The bag from the restaurant is still downstairs, a poor calculation on our part because, although there were times we were naked on set -

This isn't a set anymore. 

It is someone's house.  
_

Armie gives me an expectant look as he pulls on a robe he's retrieved from the shared bath. 

"Come on, lazy bones, get your ass out of bed." He croons, slapping me on the butt.

I must have indicated that I don't fucking feel like it, because frankly, I don't fucking feel like it. 

So he throws another robe at me, perhaps assuming, I'll get up and use it.

"Does this belong to *him*?" I ask.

"Probably, is there a problem with that?" Not that he cares.

"No problem." I mumble, but I still feel like we're encroaching on someone else's life.  
_

We head into the kitchen to gather supplies for dinner where Armie grabs the smaller bag from the counter.

"Where are we going?" I ask as he takes my hand.

And with his long fingers twining with mine, he kisses my knuckles before tugging me gently towards the narrow circular stairs.  
_

"Were you up here earlier?" I know where he's leading me.

Armie shakes his head, seeming with no qualms about marching around half naked in a home that is no longer ours.

And lo and behold there's still a dingy mattress up there. The rest of the decor is different, cleaned up with far more personal belongings around, as well as bicycle hooks hanging from the rafters.

I'm assuming they're bicycle hooks (although there's no sign of the vintage bikes we used while we were shooting).  
_

The heavy mattress falls with a thump as Armie tips it over, spewing a cloud of dust in its wake; bringing back vibrant memories that are particularly bittersweet. 

And I bow my head as he opens the bag; handing me a plump, ripe peach.

"Do I have to?" I ask, not sure how I feel about doing this again with an audience. With him.

"Shy?" He asks.

"Not shy at all." That's not it.

"And yet -" 

"No *and yet*. And I'm not embarrassed either."

"Fuck, Timmy, I wasn't here for that part. But the shit that finally made the cut was fucking hot."

"You didn't peek?"

He shakes his head, looking so sad (is he lying about this?), that I get an idea.

"Here." I hand the fruit back to him.

"Me?" He asks.

"Why not?"

Armie looks at the peach like it's a puzzle, something he has to ponder and plan.

"It's not the fucking launch codes." I tease.

"Logistics, just working out how this is going to work."

"It works just fine." I smile; sure he's just trying to stall. "And it's not fucking cold. The first one I tried at home was too cold and it was hard as hell to dig out the pit, let alone put it on my dick."

"Lesson learned." He laughs.

But he's still just looking at it.

"Lie down " I tell him, taking his free hand to pull him down beside me. 

I lean over to kiss his chest through the V opening of the robe.

Exposing his smooth abs and stomach -

Pulling back his robe to tunnel inside - 

And like an old time peep show, out bursts his erect cock.  
__

There should have been a standing ovation for this (impressive as it is) but the organ currently exposed requires not approval - but perhaps more accurately, mindful tending.  
___   
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

Timmy's great ideas these days usually involve me putting myself in his hands, or at the moment, his peach. And that's not what I had in mind at all.

No.

More like the peachy goodness that is his ass.

But I've got to admit (although I have been tempted various times), I have never actually fucked a peach. Or so I'm telling him.  
__

Timmy's so cute, guiding me through the steps required to recreate the scene.

Where I dig my thumb into the soft flesh - 

Moving it around -

Hearing the squish -

Feeling the juices drip onto my hand -

Running down my arm.

Where Timmy holds me, putting his mouth to me -

Licking up the stickiness.   
__

His other hand grasps my cock, his palm warm against my skin, each part of us warming the other.

Warm making warmer.

Hot making hotter.   
__

The pit pops out, and my hand cups the fruit while Timmy uses both hands to enlarge the opening, juice running down his arm as well.

Then with his hand wrapped around mine, we press the opening to my cock.

"I was pretending it was your asshole that day." Timmy murmurs, licking my neck. 

"Oliver's," I remind him. "Or were you thinking about me too?" 

I want to know.

"Both." I feel his lips move against my skin.  
__

And it's like as if this has become, not just a trip down memory lane, but a total consciousness raising exercise; a plethora of sensations, not at all unlike the first time we practiced in his apartment, taking me past mere excitement to an epiphany that I will definitely have to take under further consideration. But not now.  
__

Timmy, shaking his head, gently removes my hand from the peach. 

"Let me." He says.

And I fold my arms behind my head so I can watch as he manipulates the fruit over my cock.

It's a wet and slippery ride, more like a cunt than an asshole, but who am I to judge, as Timmy slides down on the bed to get a closer view.

His leg bumps mine and I raise my thigh to rest my leg over his own.

Opening me up to his free hand as he places two fingers into his mouth; sucking them as he continues to press the peach onto my cock.

I rise up and now his fingers are there. Right there.

Circling -

Pressing lightly -

As I continue to fuck the shit out of that errant, and most impersonal pulpiness.   
__

And if you had listened closely - 

Over our combined heavy breathing - 

You could hear the squish of the peach as it's defiled beyond reason.  
__

"NOW! Fucking now!" I bellow.

And Timmy presses his fingers deeply into me as my whole body convulses in full orgasmatic glory.   
___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

I press two fingers deeply into him, his cock erupting into the fruit. 

Cum dripping over the peach onto my hand. 

Several drops landing on his stomach and thigh.

I'm not quite sure how they landed down there but I move to lick a trail over his leg to his groin and up to his stomach.  
__

Armie groans when my mouth covers his cock -

Tasting of cum and peach juice.

"You weren't peachy there when I sucked you." He says, referring to the scene.

"You didn't really suck me then." I counter, before returning to his cock.

It was implied, but it didn't really happen (not in front of the crew anyways).

And I lick and clean.

The peach clenched firmly in my other hand, my fingers still trapped inside his body - 

Then feeling him contract and soften - I remove to crawl up beside him.  
__

"Better now?" I ask, my tongue firmly placed in cheek. 

Armie moves to sit up but, "Stay there." I say, where he lays back down.

I hold the defiled peach and carefully turn it around so the cum soaked indentation can be admired and -

Taking the two fingers that were just inside his body -

I put them into the peach -

Scooping out a generous amount of Armie's DNA.

"I'm not going to say anything here." He states, somehow breaking the moment.

"You just did."   
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I can't get anything past him, he's too quick. And fucking smart. And watching him eat my cum from the recesses of the peach is beyond hot.

"Tim -" I begin to say.

He looks down at me, the last of the fruit ready to pop into his mouth.

Which he does.

Then bending down - he feeds the last morsel to me.

His mouth to my mouth - dropping it in.

And I, pull him to me - 

My lips to his -

My tongue passing it back to him -

Then him back to me -

Until its gone.

"Holy fuck." I say. 

"Yeah." He breathes.  
___

We rest on the filthy mattress, Timmy in my arms again, where I ask what has been on my mind from the beginning.

"Why didn't you want to take the peach when I handed it to you?"

He's silent for a minute before answering, "It's personal."

"More personal than putting your mouth on me - or your fingers inside my ass - or eating my cum from a peach?"

"Don't be an asshole about this."

"I just want to understand what's going on."

He suddenly moves in my arms, struggling to get up off the bed.

"I can't talk about this here."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."  
__

Well fuck me!  
___  
___

💚 Timmy:  
_____

I have to get out of here.

RIGHT

FUCKING

NOW.  
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I follow him down the stairs and into the kitchen where he starts to set out our meal.

So I grab the Via Vai bag containing our dinner, to set it on the counter.

"I don't want to fight." He says.

I put both hands up in (mock) surrender.

"We're not fighting." I say. 

"Looks like it to me."

"Then you're in for some big disappointments in the next few weeks."

He sighs - but I've got his attention.

"It's how I am. You know me - I need to know shit." 

"Sit down. You're too tall." He tells me.

And I sit at the counter - waiting.

"It was not just playing with the peach but what happened afterwards, you know, you were there. It was really emotional and I think it tore me, and reliving that entire scene would have broken me all over again." He explains.

"It tore me too." I whisper because it was a tough day all around.

Timmy takes a breath, coming up to the stool so he's almost at eye level.

"You should have won the Oscar on just that scene - let alone that masterpiece you did in front of the fireplace."

I'm not saying this to rehash shit. It's just something I firmly believe. 

"You were there with me every step of the way." 

He tips his head forward and I can't help but kiss his hair.

"Back at you kid." 

He's right. We were there for each other.   
__

"So if we're not fighting -" Timmy pauses, putting his arms around my neck, and I feel our meal's about to be delayed.

"Hey, are we going to eat soon?" I interrupt. "Because I'm feeling faint and I'm going to need some serious stamina if you're going to fuck me again."

I feel I have to ham it up, mostly because it got so fucking serious so fucking fast.

"Oh my fucking God!" He exclaims. 

Then with one of his seriously devilish grins he adds, "You won't need stamina, honey, you just need to lie there and take it."

And then he laughs so hard, I'm seriously worried for his sanity. 

___  
___

❤ FIN - I Remember Part 5. Peaches for Dinner  
___


	6.  I Remember Part 6 - I Love You Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6: The Balustrade - with a twist

I Remember Part 6 - I Love You Too   
  


This series takes place 5 yrs after CMBYN in a blend of Elio / Oliver universe and Timmy /Armie ■ Needless to say, this is a fictionalized depiction of the actors mentioned within the following storyline.

  
_____  
___

❤ I Remember Part 6 - I Love You Too   
___  
___

💚 Timmy:   
_____

"Lie there and take it - " he told me and I haven't laughed so hard in a long time.

And it's well worth it to see the shocked look on Armie's face (although he would probably call it concern), but in my uncontrollable laughter, it's hard to tell exactly when what starts off as a gasp, turns into a sob.

"Hey?" He says, lifting up my chin to gaze into my eyes. 

"It's just being here." I tell him. "It's making me maudlin."

"Maudlin? That's a new one." 

I sigh, leaning against his chest gathering strength. And in the quieting of my sobs, I can here his stomach growl.

"Let's eat." I say, and pressing a light kiss to his lips, I grab the restaurant bag to lead him into the massive living room.   
__  
__

After our meal is consumed (amongst other things), we change back into our own clothes, because well, I just feel too exposed to be walking around in nothing but a robe. 

The kid's robe.  
__  
__

So taking a stroll in the moonlight with Armie; wandering the grounds, we end up out on the balustrade that overlooks the pool where we once again sit astride, Armie's legs dangling over top of my thighs, taking up the positions we had five years ago. 

"I like this." I say, listening to distant sounds in the stillness that were too faint to be heard that night. 

"This holds nothing but good memories." I continue, almost whispering, sure that the parents can hear. "I'm glad we came back."

Armie nods, saying nothing at first as he rests his head against the pillar.

He looks tired but he does make an effort.

"They cut that scene with Michael and Amira." 

I know. The entire fandom knows - so where is this going?

"They were good together." He shakes his head. "It shook me, the changes in the second book. I kind of feel like my home was broken, you know."

"I do know, I played their fucking son." I remind him. 

"And I had fun fucking their son." Armie smiles his shit eating grin, his despondency quickly disappearing. 

Where a thousand memories come flooding back.

"It was fun. Probably the most fun I've had on a shoot - ever."

"All those rehearsals, blocking out our movements -"

"Late at night -" I'm almost ready to jump him now. "In your apartment or mine."

"Fooling around - getting the kisses right."

"Yeah." Sure, if that's what he wants to tell himself. 

I lean closer, placing my hand inside his shirt. 

I want to kiss him but he doesn't move from the pillar.

"Hey, you have to help me with this." He's too far away.

"Turn around." He says. "Lean against me."

And with my back flat against his chest, Armie folds his long arms around my body - and I now feel at home.

His arms warm me; comfort me, taking me back to when I was first introduced to all the wonders that are Armie Hammer.

Not the persona people usually see, but who he is inside. 

Fiercely loyal, but irreverent - almost to a fault (something he'll readily admit). 

And caring. 

I remember how if I was uncertain about something we'd discussed, he'd walk me through it, step by step, and never did I hear him disparage me or even hint at our *midnight* trysts. 

I'm sure many had wondered, but Armie always kept them guessing.

And guess they did, evident in their looks, well it was mostly Luca (it was still his project after all), but the others were pretty respectful. 

We'd say nothing, but it was evident from how well prepared we were that something was going on.

Even when we were light and funny, those scenes had to be blocked out; the wrestling, the tickling (that went on far too long in my experience), because, well, Armie can be extremely focused, if not downright evil. 

And we had a lot of fun doing those scenes, even when we had to do things over because of - I'm going to say Armie's endless preoccupation with making things as realistic as possible. 

Letting him find out I was ticklish in real life, was probably a huge miscalculation on my part in that he used this knowledge to torment me take after take; and my love and affection for him was seriously tested by just how relentless he could be.   
__  
__

Oh my - I was waiting for this.

Armie's hand has been wandering.

"You're hard." He states, opening my fly. 

"For you." I breathe.

His lips also wander as I tip my head to the side, my earlobe now between his teeth; his breath warm as he nibbles my neck.

And he kisses me there - taking away the sting.

Licking the spot right over my carotid.

Sucking the skin into his mouth -

While his hand excites. 

Stroking. Stroking.

His manhandling taking its toll.

"I'm going to cum right how if you don't stop."

But I don't want him to stop. I'm just giving him a heads up.

"Such an eager boy." 

Really? I'm the one who's eager?

But there's no fucking way I'm telling him to stop; my cock throbs as his strokes become more (I'm going to say it again), focused.

Tugging -

As he jerks me off.

My pelvis wanting to take over and fuck the shit out of his hand.

Toes curling of their own volition.

Breathing ragged. 

My head cradled on his shoulder.

My hands gripping his forearms.

And now -

Right fucking now -

My breathing almost ceases as cum into his hand.  
__

*See* I want to say -

I've made a mess.   
__

Armie takes care of things, bringing his fingers up to examine as I turn sideways - one leg draped over his thigh.

Watching as he moves his hand to his mouth -

Licking. 

Sucking.

Long fingers that were wrapped around me -

Warm from my body and cum.

His mouth. His tongue. 

Lapping. Cleaning. 

He looks at me and smiles as I reach to take his hand.

Then I too take part.

In the licking - 

The sucking -

Cleaning him off. 

Cleaning me off of him.  
__  
__  
__

Armie stretches his long body on the sofa while I grab a night cap from the bar. 

"I don't think there ever was real booze in here before." I say, looking back into the alcove as I hand Armie a generous tumbler of scotch. 

"You didn't get one for yourself?" 

"I'll have some of yours." I say, nudging him to lay down beside.

I slip one leg between his, facing him so I don't have to look into the fireplace, placing one arm around to bring him close.

"So, where are these people who live here." I ask, fingers playing in his exposed chest hair.

"Bergamo, I think."

"I'm not going there, if that's what you're planning."

"We've had enough drama, thank you."

"This is nice you know." I sigh, still concentrating on his chest.

"What?" He says.

"This."

"Yeah."

I love the shorthand we have. It's been awhile since we've been able to just relax with each other. 

"Hey, it's almost midnight."

"We already did that you know." 

Armie looks at me as if I was a child, which I'm clearly not. 

He leans over, grabbing his matches; lighting up a joint (it helps relax certain orifices, or so he tells me), and I get a definite inkling as to where this evening will land.  
__  
__

In the almost five years that have passed, we've gotten to the point where our roles can now be easily reversed. 

So as I climb over to straddle Armie's body, he reaches to quickly undo my belt, laughing at the sound as it rips through the belt loops. 

And bending down to kiss him, he holds me there, taking his time.

Taking our time.

So different from five years ago, when we were eager to explore; not minding the fervor, the driving heat; our impatience taking it's toll in that we did not appreciate those revered nuances as we do now.

But tonight - tonight is for memories. 

And for creating new ones as we savor the old.

___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I undo Timmy's belt, ripping it through the loops; and it's reminiscent of another time in this very same place.

I love that he takes control so easily, and it's not a stretch, because in fact, he's probably the most headstrong person I know.

Always pushing boundaries; happy to try most things, like having the courage to be just like his character, in that -

(get ready for this) 

He spoke first.  
__

So here we are recreating something that only happened in the book but that we were eager to rehearse within the confines of his own apartment.

Our clothing - quickly removed - bodies ready for wherever our passion takes us.  
__

Timmy loves to give the impression that he would follow me anywhere, but the reality is: I'm far more susceptible to his wiles and would gladly follow him to the ends of the earth.

And if that's not immediately possible, following him as far as his cell phone has a signal will have to do.  
__

Timmy has always been the first to jump in when an untenable situation presents itself, and his motto of saying *why not* has indeed rubbed off.

While I, with my vast life experience, can come up with a thousand reasons of -

Exactly why not.  
__

But that belt gets me every time.

My belt.

His belt.

The look he gets on his face that can be gentle and loving one moment and *don't fuck with me* the next.  
__

He crawls up my body to plant a perfunctory kiss on my lips.

A loving warning that he means business.

But then he starts kissing his way down my body -

Licking.

Pinching.

Then kissing again.

When all I want is to roll over and get the show on the road.  
__

"I love you, you know."

I do know. 

He says it often enough, even in public, although there's usually a teasing demeanor in how he says it, but that's all for show.

I run my fingers through his hair guiding his mouth. 

But he wants to do this his own way - in his own time. 

"Fuck me." There I've said it. 

And all those years ago I said it often, whether he was on top, or it was me controlling the action it soon became my shorthand rebuttal for his 'I love you'.

Whenever I said it, it implied a deep love not just for his body but the very essence of who he was and who he has become.

But he's ignoring my signals.

Does he want me to say it again, because he's not getting the message.

Then he pushes my knees up to my chest; his cock rubbing against me. 

And I want to say *please*. 

But begging gets me nowhere these days - or so he says.

And I'm amazed when he presses his wide cock to my lubed and ready hole.

Guiding effortlessly inside.

Filling me up.

So when he starts to move - I put my hand between our bodies to grab my own cock; and I'm soon tugging in tandem with his thrusts, and the look he gets on his face is so intensely beautiful. 

He. Is. So. Fucking. Beautiful. 

And he rears up over me, his body flush against mine, my hand trapped between our bodies.

He grabs my head - mouth coming down to swoop and conquer. 

Taking my breath. 

While giving his.  
__

And. 

We. 

Cum.  
__

And while the words themselves are sometimes hard to come by -

This is how I say 

I Love You Too.  
_____

❤ FIN - I Remember Part 6 - I Love You Too   
_____


	7. I Remember Part 7. Everything - (Here We Go Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie and Timmy leave the villa, and Oliver and Elio return to find their home not exactly how they left it.
> 
> *This installment is from Armie and Elio's POV.

I Remember Part 7. Everything - (Here We Go Again) 

This series takes place 5 yrs after CMBYN in a blend of Elio / Oliver universe and Timmy /Armie ■ Needless to say, this is a fictionalized depiction of the actors mentioned within the following storyline.

_____  
___

❤ I Remember Part 7. Everything - (Here We Go Again)   
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I wake up with Timmy's lips wrapped around my cock. 

"Morning." I mumble. "You started without me."

"I thought I'd worn you out last night." He gazes upwards.

I try to appear like I'm a functioning human being, giving him one of my tread lightly looks, that he ignores by the way, knowing it doesn't mean anything anyways. 

Why I'm talking and interrupting Timmy's work is beyond me. 

And because he's so fucking talented in most everything he does, and the fact that he literally knows me inside and out, it's not long before he climbs up my body to slide down onto my cock.  
__  
__

Being here again with Timmy, just us, no crew, definitely no cameras, and no Luca to direct action or reaction, has moments like these becoming even more special than the original (if that were even possible). 

And this phenomena has transcended to become the quintessential definition of what I've now come to consider as *us*. A lot of big Oliver words, but this feeling is so massively overwhelming that it has taken me by storm. 

And by storm, I mean I'm so blindsided and frankly amazed this beautiful human being tolerates all my bullshit. And still he loves me.  
___  
___

🖤 Elio:  
_____

"What do you think they're doing?" I'm curious about the men who have taken over our home.

"Fucking the shit out of each other, would be my guess." Oliver laughs.

Thinking about that, and the visual of those beautiful actors makes it just too much to contemplate.

Where they did it.

How they did it.

Who topped. 

Who bottomed.

"They're probably fucking right now - on your old bed." He adds.

"They're not gay."

"Right, but they're still fucking." Oliver is smug in his response.   
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

Holy fuck!   
__

Timmy holds onto my hands. 

Fingers interlaced. 

Kissing me.

Deeply - 

As his ass slides up and down on my cock.

And I've got to admit that it's probably the best way to wake up in a bed that holds so many memories. 

Better than any alternative.

Better than a sharp stick in the eye, as I always say.   
___

"I wonder if we made noise." Tim laughs, looking around as if any second the parents, or the maid could barge in on us.

But it's not the commotion that concerns me as I take in our surroundings. 

"Fuck the noise Timmy, who's going to clean up this shit."

"Fuck."

"Yeah. Fuck."  
__

I watch as Tim marches around tidying what really needs no further attention. 

And it's a glorious sight to behold.

Seeing as he's still naked.

Apparently all the caution from earlier on has past and he no longer has any apprehension about being barged in upon. 

And I've got to admit - he looks fucking good in his birthday suit.   
__  
__

"Where's my sock." Tim has his jeans on but little else. 

"Were you wearing any?"

He points to one covered foot.

"Leave it. We don't have time to go crawling under beds."

Tim looks anyway, getting down on hands and knees to peer around.

"Fuck! I can't reach it."

I can't believe he expects me to dig around looking for a fucking missing sock.

"We've got to go." I remind him. 

And as I reach down to haul him upright, Tim grabs my ankle and I almost -

Almost - 

Want to keep walking.

One: to see if he lets go. 

And two: (and this is the fun part), to keep going and use my superior strength (fuck, have I've been working out for nothing?) to drag him all the way across the floor.

And that's what I do. 

"Armiiiieee!"

"I love it when you squeal like that!" I laugh at him. 

Where he lets go to sit there; legs splayed - 

His happy trail peaking, none too subtly, through his open fly.

I kneel beside him (reacting like fucking Pavlov's dog), cock twitching when we've got no time for such shenanigans. 

So I capture his bare foot -

Pulling him towards me - reeling him in -

Until -

"What have we here?"

"My cock in your hand." He breathes. 

Does this really require an explanation?

"I'm aware." My eyes twinkle. "You're hard."

"I'm 23 years old. I'm always hard." He throws back at me.

And I've got to admit he's probably right.

But that doesn't change anything - 

I still fucking want him. 

But there's no time.

I reach under the bed to grab the errant sock - and putting his bare foot into my lap - I apply it like I'm dressing a toddler.

"There." I say - kissing his covered foot.

"My hero!"

And he's played me. Fucking played me.

"You little shit!" I bellow as Tim jumps up running towards the door; grabbing his duffle along the way.  
__

I meet him downstairs; tossing his runners at him.

"Forget something?" I tease.

"I knew you'd bring them."

Fucking played again; but that's how things are now; played because I let him.  
__

We are about to head out to the car when I realize I've lost Timmy somewhere in the cavernous hallway.

Then I hear it -

Those first notes of the Bach variations.

I wander into the great room and there he is seated at the piano, fingers flying over the keys like it was yesterday. 

And I sit down to listen as he plays the piece through. 

And again. 

And again.

Each time changing it - just a little bit. 

And I'm just as ravished as the first time I heard him play.  
__

"You're so good at this." I tell him, nudging Tim over on what is now a bench seat (they'd changed that too).

My fingers itch to participate as my right hand rests beside his. 

Then we start - 

And it's a ragtime piece he heard me play at a party one time; my right hand and his left making the song come to life.

"We should start a band." He jokes.

I bump his shoulder as we continue to play, and its times like these that make these moments being with him so heartbreakingly special, and I never want to lose that.  
__  
__

"Aren't you going to feed me breakfast?" Tim grumbles, closing the car door. 

"Lunch, we lost track of time, remember?"

"I didn't lose track of anything, I busy was riding your cock. Remember that?"

I smile at him as I put the car in gear; my hand grazing his knee.

The kid and his husband are on their way back home and there's no fucking way I want to run into them; let alone have to introduce Timmy to someone who looks exactly like him.  
__

Then somewhere just outside of Crema we pass a car heading the other way; a big blond guy at the wheel and the kid from the villa planted in the passenger seat beside him.   
___  
___

🖤 Elio:  
_____

"Is that him?" Oliver asks.

"That's him. Them." 

"He seems smaller than on film." 

"He's sitting down. Believe me he's as big in real life as he is in the movies."

"La muvi star." Oliver snickers. 

And if I didn't see it with my own eyes I wouldn't have believed he had an issue with this.

I never told Oliver that my mother had actually called him that once, mocking his good looks and arrogance, but I don't think I'll mention it now. 

"Jealous much?"

Oliver laughs.

"That Chalamet kid is a real knockout." He says, changing the subject.

"He's not bad." Not bad at all, I think.

A little too pretty for my taste but his fucking bone structure is flawless.

"They look like a couple." Oliver states.

"You can tell that from two seconds passing them on the road?"

"I could tell from two seconds shaking your hand in your father's office."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"You're such a romantic." I say, reaching over to settle my hand on his thigh; where my fingertips wander, tracing up and over the obvious bulge in his pants.

Oliver takes is eyes off the road and I get lost in that sea of blue.

"If you weren't driving." I say.

"We can pull over." He states, looking at me a nanosecond before resuming our ride.   
___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

"Was that them?" Tim asks.

"That was them." I really don't want to talk about this right now.

But Tim isn't letting this go, "The kid does kind of look like me."

"Little bit. But you're more beautiful and talented."

"He's musical too, we played that monster piano of his."

"You're just calling it that because it took you six weeks to master all those pieces.

And he did master them; making his character completely believable.   
__

Tim is silent for a moment, then I feel his warm hand covering my thigh; his finger tips moving over and around my erect cock.

"You're hard." Tim states the obvious.

And out of the corner of my eye, I see him licking his lips.

"Hold on." I say, twisting the wheel sideways so the car skids to a stop on the side of the road.

I pull the lever under the seat, and as we slide back, Timmy and I are soon able to touch each other without the steering wheel or gear shift in the way.

But the front of the car is still too cramped and we're now relegated to climbing into the backseat.

"This isn't working." I mumble, my tongue canvassing his ear as I try, fucking try, to get my legs into a comfortable position. 

But Timmy obviously doesn't care.

"It doesn't have to work." He gasps, "I just need -"

His hand navigates back to my cock; fingers fumbling with my fly.

"Jeez, hold on." I say.

"I'm trying to."

"We're too old to be fucking in cars." And this one's too fucking small for the kind of fucking I really want to do.

With him. 

With Tim.

"It didn't stop us in Montreal." He reminds me.

"Limos are different. They're bigger and we had a driver." 

"And tinted windows." Tim adds.

"And tinted windows." I agree.  
___  
___

🖤 Elio:  
_____

"They changed the sheets." Oliver says.

I nod at his comment, trying to figure out what's different in the room, because there certainly seems to be slight discrepancies; the room where they stayed.

My old room.

"And they forgot this." Oliver continues, retrieving a crumpled paper bag wedged between the bed and the wall.

He reaches inside pulling out one lone peach.

"A snack?" I try to give it a plausible explanation.

"I don't think so." He laughs rotating the peach in his hand.

"Armie said -"

"Oh so you call him Armie now?"

"That's his name."

"I bet he doesn't know yours."

"I never told him." Sadly he wasn't all that interested in me.

Just the room.

"Did he talk about that Chalamet kid?"

"He didn't say much of anything. Why?"

"Because," Oliver pauses, "the kid's still my hall pass after all. " 

"You're just being a dick about this because I got to meet him."

But what's left unsaid is, *and you didn't*. 

___  
___

💙 Armie:  
_____

I'm about to break land-speed records as Timmy stares out the window, his hands tightly fisted in his lap. 

Hurry up. Fucking hurry up. 

He doesn't actually say it, but I swear I can hear him screaming in my head.

Or is it me? 

And this time we don't have the excuse of being at the villa; this isn't a trip down memory lane. 

This is us. 

Who we are now.

What we have become.

And the thought of working with him again - of having licence to let him crawl all over me - again - and fucking enjoying every minute of it - again -

Is something I never thought would actually become a reality.

AGAIN.   
__  
__

We drive past another car that I swear is Luca's headed in the other direction. And seemingly deep in conversation, he doesn't turn, wave, or acknowledge the nondescript rental car speeding by.

But I'm sure he knows - knew right from the start.

(If I love my actors - they will love each other.) 

Two virtual strangers laid out on the back lawn five long years ago.

And I can't wait for when he repeats that same exact phrase this new time around; because just for the hell of it I want to hear him state those magical words - words that had the power for two people to finally find each other - 

WHENEVER YOU'RE READY.

And then I can honestly say to Tim (meaning every word - as if no break had happened at all), thankful of our time here spent together -

Rehearsing. 

Filming. 

Even fucking promoting (that I once called fourteen months of hell, but it wasn't).

And it's now my great pleasure to mean every fucking word as I turn to the man who's come to mean more to me than anyone else in the world, and smile and say (with the complete assurance that he feels exactly the same way) - 

'Here we go again'.

And if I didn't know better, I'd say what happen at the villa feels like a honeymoon.  
___  
___

■ Epilogue  
___  
___

🖤 Elio:  
_____

They left the place pretty tidy, except for the soiled sheets stuffed into the hamper.

(And with Oliver up in the attic room, doing God knows what)

I carry the linens back to my old room; spread them out over the fresh ones on the bed.

Looking for traces. 

Hoping, checking -

AND THERE!

I hold it up.

Delighted in my find - this verboten treasure.

Smell it. Sniff it. 

The rankness - excites. 

The thrill of knowing that these two individuals, one who've I've met, the other a twin of myself; Armie and (I can't be like Oliver and call him a kid), this person who in another life could be me, were here and they left a seminal part of themselves.  
__

And I now know that I won't ever need a fucking *hall pass*.

Oliver is all I want. 

And I will show him that.

Every fucking day.  
__

But just because I find no need for another doesn't negate what I'm holding right now.

This exquisite proof of their puriency in this space.

This room.

My room.

So I carefully gather this treasure to fold and put away knowing it may never be laundered again. 

But on the off chance I happen to catch Oliver 

Lusting after that Chalamet kid -

Maybe one day in the not so distant future 

We will fuck to the (little) death on top of these same soiled sheets.  
__

Our fluids combining to make 

Two out of four 

And then 

Two into one.

Just like it was meant to be. 

Just everything.   
__  
__  
__

❤ FIN - I Remember 7 - Everything - (Here We Go Again) (fin series)   
__  
__

■ notes: Armie's part was cut out of the movie Hall Pass.  
_____


End file.
